


Mistress of Staves

by ambiguously



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)
Genre: F/F, MayThe4th Treat, Sabacc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-16 11:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18690316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Qi'ra and Enfys meet, and they gamble for the highest stakes.





	Mistress of Staves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saiditallbefore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/gifts).



Qi'ra had grown up in a literal underworld, her first steps taken in the gutters, already in the service of the White Worms. The galaxy's underbelly held no fears for her. She wore ostentatiously fine clothing, and kept ostentatiously large bodyguards at her side, and she swum in the murky waters of the most notorious gambling dens as she swanned through the rarefied company of the elites who were rich and powerful enough for the Empire not to care about their illicit hobbies. She might be the face of Crimson Dawn and therefore a wanted criminal, but she was important. She wore that knowledge as her most vital accessory, bringing out the fire in her eyes.

Today's business took place in a rowdy establishment which went quiet as she entered, before voices rose again in volume and pitch. Qi'ra let herself enjoy their thrilled fear. Was Crimson Dawn here to hire, or to burn the gambling den to the ground?

"Lady Qi'ra," said the host, with an unctuous voice. "I am your servant. Whatever you want, you need only ask."

"A room, and privacy," she said, but the room was already prepared, and her contact was already waiting. Face to face meetings like this were rare, and it was rarer still that both parties walked out alive, but Qi'ra preferred to keep her moofs alive to be milked again in the future.

As she made her way to depart, she saw her.

Qi'ra was one of the few people outside the dregs of the Rebellion who'd seen Enfys Nest without her mask. It was obvious none of the others here had any idea who she was. Qi'ra signalled to her guards to disperse towards the door, while she made her way to the table where Enfys sat at cards.

"Deal me in," she said, earning a surprised glance that was quickly stilled. The cards were dealt, with the other players unnerved at Crimson Dawn's leader playing with them. Gamblers lost their heads often in this den. Qi'ra had the resources to make them wish she'd been so gentle. She played through four hands, losing twice to Enfys as the other gamblers folded.

After, they took a drink together at another table, enemies watching each other over the rims of their cups.

Qi'ra said, "I don't often see wanted revolutionaries having a casual night out."

"That's the thing about masks. Take yours off, and you can be anyone."

Qi'ra took a casual glance around the room. "I imagine your people are planted all through here." She hadn't paid attention to their faces the one time she'd met the Cloud Riders at truce. Her gaze had been drawn to the beautiful, fierce woman who led them. The rest were insignificant, although she was sure at least three of them had a blaster ready to cut her down if she made a move against Enfys now.

"Everyone needs to relax now and then. And I had business."

"As did I." She sipped her drink. "You and I could do business. I admired your work on Ceteb Nine." The Cloud Riders had demolished a Black Sun stronghold, and taken everything.

"We work for freedom, not for free."

Interesting. "Your services are for hire, then?"

"Barter. A trade, if you will. My people want your people out of the Darso Sector. Go peacefully, and I'll give you intelligence on where to find an Imperial supply depot with enough beskar to pay for a princedom on Mandalore."

It wasn't a trade worth making. If Enfys was willing to give up the hit herself, that meant it was too well protected for her to attempt to make the raid. Even if Qi'ra could pull off the job, she couldn't then offload that much beskar, not unless she wanted the unhappy attention of powerful Mandalorians. But it was an opening with a group she'd hoped to see under her own control someday. Even odds, risks both ways.

"I'll wager you for it," Qi'ra said, and she signalled the landlord for another deck of cards. "One card, high draw. You win, I'll move my people from the sector, and I'll take the depot information in exchange. I win, your group does a job for me and I pay you."

"I didn't make that offer."

"We both want things. A wager, or nothing."

Enfys watched her with a flat expression, then reached into the deck, cutting it cleanly in half before pulling a card. Without looking at it, she slid the deck to Qi'ra. Their hands brushed, and something electrical passed between them. It was there and gone, like Saint Darso's Fire, the same legendary woman whose eponymous star system they now disputed. Enfys looked nonplussed before smoothing out her face again.

Qi'ra drew a card.

The higher number was in Enfys's hand. Qi'ra nodded the victory. "We'll be gone by next cycle."

"The depot is on Farway." Without another word, Enfys stood and walked away.

* * *

They met like this several times. Qi'ra would have a business contact to meet, or she would be making an appearance to remind these lowlifes who was in charge, or she'd be in a bar alone, not in her finery, just a woman looking for a quiet drink somewhere she didn't have to be important for a while. And Enfys would appear, sans mask. Qi'ra got to know the faces that came with her, and learned to recognize the eyes of the new faces. These would-be Rebels had all lost something, someone, and their eyes always ached with the absence, and the determination to make something right, anything.

They played sabacc, and they played Dead Man's Sevens, and they learned one another's tells until the other gamblers stood and walked away.

"I need a job done," Qi'ra would say.

"I have a request," Enfys would say.

The cards decided. Numbers danced, and the Mistress and the Idiot laughed as the Star shone over them all, and they parted again, one deal at a time.

* * *

The galaxy was closing in. The Empire had swatted the early Rebels like tiny teaseflies, but each swat only swelled their numbers, and in retaliation, the swatter grew larger. Crimson Dawn and Black Sun wrestled for smaller and smaller takes as stormtroopers surged over once-ignored planets.

"It's hard to be a woman of business these days," she half-joked over a small pot which the other players had decided wasn't rich enough to die for.

Enfys said, "It's harder for everyone else. If Crimson Dawn helped us, we'd all be better off."

Qi'ra pictured the red monster who held the other end of her chain. He hadn't contacted her in nearly a year. It was too much to hope that he was dead.

"Call," she said, and showed her cards.

Enfys had a job that required Qi'ra's help: the Empire had crushed a world in revolt, and the surviving refugees needed transport to a safe haven being set up for them near Crimson Dawn's territory. She took the deck of cards, sliding it between them.

"They lost their fight," Qi'ra said, pushing the cards back, enjoying the brief touch of fingers. "It's not my job to help the losers."

"The losers all died. These are their children. There isn't one among them more than ten years old."

It wasn't her problem. The galaxy was full of orphans and lost children. She'd been raised by criminals. She was too important now to bother with the problems of kids like she'd been.

She drew a card. When she glanced at it, she saw her own draw was much higher than the one Enfys had drawn. Qi'ra had won. The galaxy was unfair. Those children would learn that soon enough.

For a reason she couldn't name, she said, "Best two out of three?" And she drew again.

* * *

Qi'ra wagered a kiss against a piece of intel Enfys wanted. The cards said she had to give up the information. Enfys kissed her anyway, just once, but Qi'ra's lips burned for hours after she left.

* * *

Maul returned from his absence, and the chain tightened down. He'd found a new obsession, wanted her to use her contact with the Rebellion to trace someone, but Enfys would die before giving up a name. Qi'ra didn't want her to die. She wanted Maul to go away again for good.

She got word of a face to face with a potential ally, a lucrative deal that could fix a lot of her problems, but when she reached the cantina, the only contact waiting for her was one she already knew well. Two drinks sat on the table.

"I'm meeting someone," Qi'ra said.

"You're meeting me. Sit."

Pride kept her back straight as she stood. "I don't appreciate being whistled for like a feldog."

"I can't whistle," Enfys said, and demonstrated a poor, reedy attempt. "I wanted to talk."

Qi'ra sat. "Talk." She took the glass closer to her side of the table. Any other contact might have poisoned the drink, but Enfys was far too honorable. It was a trait Qi'ra admired, and envied.

"You're unhappy."

That pulled a laugh from her. "You have known me for eight years. You're just now noticing?"

"No," said Enfys. "I'm just now deciding." She held out a deck of cards. The cantina was worn-down and dusty, and the playing cards the house owned had known the desperate deals of long-dead hands. It wasn't the deck of an important person. It was the last card of someone who'd bet their own life. "High card wins."

"What are we betting?"

"You win, and the Cloud Riders never interfere in a Crimson Dawn operation again."

Qi'ra sat back. "High stakes. What are you asking for if you win?"

Enfys watched her with her sad eyes full of loss and fire. "You take off this mask you've been wearing. You walk out of here with me. You join us. You join me."

She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She wanted to yell at Enfys. She wanted to kiss her, had wanted to for years, but their masks came between them every time. She knew what she was being offered.

Qi'ra was important, but without the power she'd gained from Crimson Dawn, she was still some scumrat. Enfys was betting the future of the Cloud Riders, even the Rebellion itself, for a woman who had no worth.

As if reading her thoughts, Enfys said, "No. You are that important to me. One last wager, Qi'ra." She leaned forward. "All or nothing."

Qi'ra watched her face, free of her mask. She'd been striking even in her younger days, but for all the hardships she'd seen since, Enfys was even more beautiful now. Crimson Dawn was on the decline, and would be crushed between the Empire and the larger cartels. Taking Qi'ra out of the picture wouldn't win Enfys a strategic victory. There was no reason for Enfys to push now to wager for Qi'ra's soul.

"I can't."

"You can." Enfys kept her eyes on her as she cut the deck and drew a card. A pip worth only three. Easy enough to beat with almost any draw.

One card. One chance. One choice in destinies: to decay here in power and splendor, or to run away with this woman and fight. Qi'ra put her fingers on the deck. She flipped over the top card. Without looking down, she said, "Your card is better. You win."

Enfys said, "Another wager." Qi'ra felt her eyebrows rise. "If I win, I get to kiss you now."

"No bet," Qi'ra said, and she pressed her mouth against Enfys's smiling lips until they parted.

They left a few credits for the server, and they left the deck of cards behind. The Mistress of Staves winked up at no one as they walked outside together.


End file.
